


God This Hurts

by Jemzamia



Category: Torchwood
Genre: Gen, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-06-20
Updated: 2013-06-20
Packaged: 2017-12-15 14:19:43
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,039
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/850542
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Jemzamia/pseuds/Jemzamia
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Two weeks after Toshiko and Owen's deaths, the team carries on, silently broken on the inside. But after losing so many people over so many years, is it still healthy for Jack to keep things so locked up inside?</p><p>Set post Exit Wounds.</p><p>Written in 2008 and imported from my Livejournal</p>
            </blockquote>





	God This Hurts

Ianto stirred slowly, the last remnants of sleep deserting him as his body gradually regained all feeling. He could feel the first few rays of sunlight tingling against his back, creeping through the crème curtains of his flat. Ianto groaned and moved a lazy arm, trying to settle back down and go back sleep, knowing that he shouldn’t really. His hand then found some warmth in his bed, and after a brief second Ianto smiled drowsily, remembering the events of the night before and his bedfellow. He pulled himself closer, snuggling up to the man’s chest and planting the odd kiss against it, a gesture which was soon roused a small chuckle from Ianto’s bedfellow.   
“Morning,” smiled Jack, brushing his fingers against the nape of Ianto’s neck. Ianto lifted his head up and opened his eyes for the first time that day, only to be greeted by Jack’s adoring gaze. They both smiled contently and leant in for a soft, tender kiss that lingered comfortably as the morning sun kept rising.   
“We better get up soon,” said Jack.  
“Five more minutes won’t kill us,” insisted Ianto, already settling back down on Jack’s chest.  
“Speak for yourself,” laughed Jack, stroking Ianto’s back. They both went silent for a while, wide awake, basking in the morning glow.  
“That’s what I love about mornings like this,” said Ianto, voice suddenly solemn.  
“What is?”  
“Forgetting the harsh reality behind jokes like that.”

***

The lunchtime coffee round seemed like a shadow of its former self to Ianto. The joyous banter that used to accompany it had disappeared the moment that five mugs had become three, not that Owen had used his for a while, of course. Only two weeks had passed since the tragic loss of Owen and Toshiko and the somber atmosphere they left in their wake still haunted the Hub. Gwen would soullessly type away at her workstation, finishing her own paperwork and dreading having to finish Owen’s, feeling as though it would be yet another nail in his coffin. Owen didn't have a coffin though; he was sealed inside the nuclear facility, destined to rot. If there was anything left of him to rot, that is.

Toshiko however, had no leftover paperwork, all her work was already filled out, labelled and neatly filed away, as if she were never there. Toshiko had always been organised, a characteristic they all had taken for granted, but now Gwen hated it slightly because it made all the remnants of Toshiko disappear far too quickly, sealed in a metal box permanently. Gwen had nothing but memories left of her dear friend, which would inevitably fade away with age and time.

Like everything and everyone else Jack held dear. He glanced down from the Hothouse, carefully overseeing the Hub, keeping a close eye on his two surviving team members as they bravely trundled on through life. But he knew that they felt broken on the inside because he was too. It was a feeling Jack was never rid of, even before his immortal days, but it nevertheless meant that he never became accustomed to it each time he lost someone. In fact it always hurt more than the last, and a new crack would painfully fracture in his fragile heart. It was his head that always kept him going, thinking about those who were still with him, taking consolation in their remaining presence, wanting to make them feel better while he stung on the inside. It was his job as their leader, but still all Jack could think at that moment was.

‘God this hurts.’

***

Too indulged in his never ending reverie, Jack jumped slightly when a hand carefully touched his shoulder. He soon calmed though, when he recognized the familiar face of Ianto, bravely attempting a somewhat strained smile. Jack returned it, whilst placing an affectionate hand on top of Ianto’s, grateful for the company. Ianto stepped closer to Jack, resting his chin on Jack’s shoulder and planting his other hand on Jack’s waist, pulling him slightly closer. A sigh of dismal content rose gently from Jack, allowing him to relax a little against his lover but still not let go of the grief and guilt he felt weighing heavily on his shoulders.  
“You don’t have to keep it in around me.”

Those words hung in the air for what felt an eternal moment, chilling the air between them.   
“I have to.”  
“Why?”  
“Because you’re a part of the team.”  
“I’m also your lover!” persisted Ianto, “I know we’re not a conventional, happy-families couple who have simple lives, but still, you can talk to me. You don’t have to lock it all in as it eats you from the inside. You've looked after me so many times, after Lisa, the cannibals, I could go on…just let me take care of you. Just for once, Jack. You may be immortal but you’re still human. You’re still hurting like the rest of us.”

Jack turned around, rigid in Ianto’s slight hold, staring into Ianto’s compassionate eyes. He looked so bare, so lost, like the young boy he himself once was, desperate to find his missing brother again, not knowing what devastating consequences it may have in the future, or rather the past.  
“Ianto, I…I…”  
Jack was soon taken into the Welshman’s arms, holding him close like his life depended on it. The soft, soothing sounds of Ianto’s reassuring nothings warmed the air, as he reassuringly stroked the back of Jack’s hair. The Captain simply embraced Ianto, quietly sobbing on the other man’s shoulder, burying his face into the crook of Ianto’s neck. Ianto had been right; he did need taking care of, no matter how much he didn't want to admit it. He had been thrown into a world of death, war and betrayal where independence was the only way to survive. Acting tough and staying strong was the key. But when it came down to it all Jack just wanted someone to hold through the night when tragedies arose. Someone to cling to and be thankful for the fact they are still here. Someone to help remember those who you had shared your lives with, and at long last he did.

He had Ianto.


End file.
